You called my name
by J.A.Kishu
Summary: After waking up from his coma, Sherlock straggles with being back in the civlatationen. Without hunting and being hunted. Back and save but is it true? What when someone comes and hurt him again. Will John stay or will he use the next opportunity to leave him alone. Can he be forgiven for jumping, leaving and killing? Part 4 of Your miracle


**You called my name**

 _(sequel to 'My light', 'The long way home', 'White room or darkness')_

Sherlock POV:

Maybe I should have thought about it before I open my mouth and tell my friend that I witness his breakdown in front of my own grave standing behind a tree close by. I could have erased that pain; I could have held him and let his tears wash away. But I didn't. I watched, I watched and left. I could see how the realization hit him. I guess he didn't thought about the possibility that I was there, probably too worried about me the last days then to think about it. He hadn't time until now to think about it. It was painful to watch his face darken. He was supposed to … yes to do what? I´m the one that hurt him and I expect that he forgives me without a blink of an eye and everything is back to normal.

I feel my stomach pulling painful and nausea hit me hart. I was the one that hurt my light. I won´t be forgiven. Everything will turn dark again. He will leave. He should leave or I will hurt him again. I´m the darkness destroying everything; alone again how it is supposed to be. Bad people should be alone to not hurt the ones that are light.

Pain fills my body and mind. Not only my stomach, everything hurts and the weakness is what let me turn to the side and vomit onto the ground. My whole body fights my intention to stop it and in the end I let it happen. It took me a very long moment to understand what happens as I open my eyes again. John was still there rubbing my back but we weren't alone anymore a doctor and a nurse are fussing about and around me. The only thing that was important was John´s hand grounding me. The easiest thing to do was go back to sleep for a bit.

John POV:

The happiness about Sherlock waking up, finally, was swept off my face the moment I realize that he was there; he had watched me, listens to my speech and didn't stop it. I feel anger boiled up in my body. He is my friend and he let me suffer all this time. Until now I didn't realize I should be angry and hurt.

But over my anger I see the dramatic change in Sherlock´s body language. Already pale he loses the last bit of his color and his eyes fill with pain. At least he is able to turn to the side (not the one with me) as he gets violent sick on the floor. I hit the call bottom and hold him, feeling his muscles cramping under my finger.

I should have thought about his health before we go to the talking thing. It can wait until Sherlock is back on his feet again and waking up from a coma doesn't count as fit. As he is finished I turn him to lie back in bed. A tired expression fills him and Sherlock´s eyes had closed before his head had hit the pillow.

Sherlock was sleeping again. Not sure if I should be happy or angry about it, push the thoughts away. While a nurse cleans the floor I use a cloth to clean his face. He still looks exhausted but he woke up. Thinking about it he woke up for me. I called him and he answered, he needed a bit guiding but regarding his physical and psychotically condition I can be glad he came back.

I know why he did what he did. He jumped to safe me, he throws away his reputation and his life to keep me safe. Everything for me and I get angry. Okay I didn't shout or hit him but with different circumstance with him not injured or if he had come back alone. I guess I would have hit him for betraying me like this.

Now he sleeps in hospital bed covers in scars and injures which will become scars. He is back.

Without the intention I take his hand, feeling the warmth again and let me fall back into the chair. Maybe I can close my eyes for a bit. Until now every time I close them I see the cell with the dead looking Sherlock hanging down the ceiling. But Sherlock is alive. He woke up and I can feel his pulse, his beating and living heart. Before I can fight it I fall asleep too.

Sherlock POV:

He isn't calling me. I can´t hear his voice. He really left me. I am alone …

 _"_ _Sherlock, wake up. Everything is okay. You are back in London come on. Wake up for me."_ Oh it´s back, his voice. I open my eyes. The wild beating of my heart begins to slow down. But my eyes wander around the room another few seconds to make sure no one war around that could mean danger. John is sometime too trusty in things like that and he is watching me. Expecting something, anything.

"I couldn't hear you." Not what I really want to say but there was nothing else that came to my mind. I must look really frighten because John tights his hand around mine, I didn't notice it before and he smiles his 'good doctor' smile. It´s not quiet pity but it comes dangerous close to it.

"I was asleep, Sherlock. I won´t leave you, I promise you don't have to panic when I don't talk to you." He holds up the hand which is connected to mine. "You can feel my hand. When I´m not talking to you I´m still here." That makes sense. John was sleeping and not leaving. Does he mean he will never leave or only while I´m in hospital or for today?

I can give him at least a nod of my head to signal him that I heard him. "Your doctor wants to have a look at you when you wake up. Is it okay when I call him now?" I nearly forgot, I´m in a hospital with doctors who want to touch me. They want to take off my clothes and want to look at the scars. Had John seen them? Oh please god, make that he hadn't seen them. They are ugly and filled with shame and guilt and disappointment.

The increasing beeping noise of the heart monitor pulls me out of my thoughts. John looks worried down at me. So I take a deep breath and try to relax. It was a doctor that only wants to help me.

John POV:

Being woken by a panic attack from Sherlock wasn't really nice. The alarm went off and the noise woke me. He was breathing rapidly and his eyes moved under his lids. Frist I thought he was dreaming, a nightmare but he wasn't really sleeping but also not awake. I needed to calm him down.

After he woke, he looked lost and vulnerable and hurt, so I promised to stay. That was the only thing Sherlock wants to hear to relax.

Telling him that he would call his doctor was a mistake. I could see the rising panic and the increase of the breathing his mind wasn't really present anymore. Until he looked to the heart monitor as if the noise had pulled him back. Best thing I can do is to find out the source of the panic.

"I can wait and call the doctor later and if you want I can stay while he has a look at you. I can leave too if that is what you want." Sherlock looked like a frighten child by my words. Not sure what it means or why he was afraid from a checkup was unclear.

"You can call the doctor but I would prefer when you wait outside the room." Sherlock had lowered his eyes again as if not to tell me something with them. Not sure why he want me to leave when he panics by the thought of me leaving him alone while asleep.

"Okay." Whatever it is he wants to be alone with a stranger them having me around to support him. I call the nurse station to tell them they can send his doctor in. As the doctor arrives I get up to leave the room but Sherlock´s hand doesn't lose around mine. We hadn't let go of each other without noticing.

"Sherlock?" He looks up to me, frighten as if he was somewhere else. "I will be just outside the door. There are a few seats so no reason for me to go further away." I try an encouraging smile. "Or I can stay here if you would like?" Flashes of different emotions cross Sherlock´s face and without saying a word he let go of my hand. It felt cold suddenly. Without saying anything else I leave and I´m pretty sure something awful will happen.

Sherlock POV:

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of cause I need to let go of his hand so he can leave and will not see my scars and wounds. Stupid, just let go. Let go. He offers to stay but he can´t see them. The doctor will see and know what I did but it´s not John so it is alright.

Concentrate. Just answer the doctor's stupid question let him have a look at your injuries and then he will leave. Please let it be over soon. I need him back inside.

… What when he leaves. What when he already saw it and uses the opportunity to leave.

"Mr. Holmes, please calm down. Your breathing is to fast you will black out if you continue like that." The doctor sounds worried but he is still touching my arm to check its mobility. Hurry up. I don't want to be touched by you or anyone else. It always hurt when someone is touching me.

"Mr. Holmes would you prefer to get Dr. Watson back inside? He can stay while the examination, maybe it will help you." All I can do is to shake my head. I can´t trust my words. I could say something that would be interpreted as a 'yes please' or 'I need him'.

Okay calming down … how? The doctor is still in this room and hasn't stopped the touching. "Mr. Holmes …" The rest disappears inside the fizzy noises that block my hearing. I can feel it, more hands on me, hands that will hurt me, hands that don't belong there.

"Stop please."

John POV:

As a nurse came running and stormed into Sherlock´s room I knew something was wrong. I heard a bit of the conversation or better hear the doctor talk to Sherlock and the increasing heartbeat. I follow the nurse inside and the first thing I hear is a weak, sobbed, heartbreaking plead from Sherlock to stop whatever he things they are doing.

"Let go of him!" I shout and step closer to Sherlock. As soon as the doctor let go of him he stopped pleading.

"Sherlock, I will take you hand now. Okay?" I move slowly to give him time to pull away. The doctor and nurse move away from us. Better is it. They just triggered a panic attack. As soon as I touch his hand, Sherlock begins to calm down. He can´t see me and I´m not sure he could hear me but my touch helps.

"Sherlock, come back to me. You are safe in London with me. No one here will hurt you. Come back from the place you visit. It´s just a memory, it´s in the past. I´m here and I will protect you. Sherlock open your eyes and look around." To my amazement he did exactly that. Sherlock steadies his breathing and looks up. His, from fear and pain clouded eyes focus on me and get there light back.

"…John?" So he was back. Still confused and not really himself but maybe I can use it to get to the problem.

"What was the problem, did you doctor hurt you?" Sherlock looked around as if to make sure they were alone.

"He touched me. I don't want to be touched." I lift an eyebrow, so exactly what I did to calm him down triggered the attack in the first place.

"Do you want me to let go of your hand?" I didn't do it the second he said something about touch because he is used to mine and never minded it. For my answer I get a head shake.

"Why should I leave if me holding your hands is helping?" Sherlock´s eyes grow big and a new fear appears. He looks down on his half-dressed body, parts of his skin was visible, some with scars others still healing. Suddenly he let go of my hand and tries to cover his body with his shirt, hands and arms.

"You can´t see them." Sherlock shouts out. "You are not allowed to see it. Not you. No." His voice gets smaller and it ends with a mumbling to himself. So he wants to hide his injuries and/or his scars.

"You know I was the one who get you out of that cell. Maybe you can´t remember it but I do. I saw you down there. I was also with you in the helicopter ride where they cut off the sorry remains of your clothes; I saw what they did to you. And I was here with you every minute while you have slept. Believe me Sherlock I saw it all and you don't need to be ashamed about a few scars. It won´t change anything, with or without scars. You are still Sherlock and next time the doctor come to examine you or change your dressing, I will stay, okay?" I take his hand again and squeeze it a bit for him to feel it and maybe to insure him, that I stay, that I help and that he can trust me.

Sherlock POV:

John had seen them the whole time. John knows that they will stay for life and he didn't look disgusted or anything he looked like John. My save light-bringing John. But does he know what I did. Why I left? Is he aware of the fact that he sits with a murder in the same room. Maybe we should talk about it or …yes, I know it. It´s also something he taught me.

"John?" Don't look into his eyes, I don't want to see it but I have to say it. Taking a deep breathe. "I´m really sorry." And without intention I let it all out, I guess the warm hand of John and his thumb smoothing me in the rhythmus of his pulse. "I´m sorry I left. I´m sorry I didn't tell you what I´m doing or why." Unshed tears begin to fall into my lab, not caring about it I continue. "I´m sorry that I look like a mess. I´m sorry you had to see me on the ground and in this cell." And finally I look into his eyes. "I´m sorry I needed so long to come home." I don't earn his forgiveness but I really would like to see him smile at me with his amazed eyes again. Just once. "Please forgive me."

John POV:

Listen to Sherlock´s apology was heartwarming and his pleading was breaking me at the same time. I could feel how he regrets his doing but also know the reason and that he would do it over and over again, the same way. Just for the reason to keep me alive. The anger I felt as I had realized that Sherlock had watched me on the day of the funeral was long gone. Hearing these words from Sherlock showed me again how deep his feelings are for me and not only in a friendship kind of way. Also that Sherlock was unexperienced and probable didn't understand his own feelings simple because he always pushes them away.

I guess here is Mycroft to blame with his 'caring is not an advantage'. It´s not a healthy attitude especially for someone who had already a big barrier between him and the rest of the world. Sherlock is still looking at me hopeful for forgiveness and fearful for refusal or hate. We have to disgust the whole friendship thing again but also our changed relationship. Because we can´t go back to where we were. We need to go forward and for this we need both to understand our feelings for each other.

The moment as Sherlock woke up and looked into my eyes. Seeing the real me, not like in the cell thinking I´m a hallucination, was enlightened. I finally understand my own longing to be close to him and also his motive to do everything for me whatever it takes. Whatever the cost will be. Keeping me save was the one and only goal he had the last years.

"I´m not angry and I forgive you. Do you also forgive me for loosing fate in you?" Sherlock nod, not sure he even understands what I mean but he looks relieved and a bit better after hearing that I forgive him.

"You can call the doctor again. So he can finish his job, because I want to go home. But this time, please stay with me and don't let go of my hand." The doctor came back in and the whole examination, changing dressing and answering question was done in less than an hour. Sometimes Sherlock needed a few seconds to calm down again but with a squeeze of my hand everything was fine. The only questions he didn't answer were the ones relating to his activities the last years. But with a nod from me we put this topic away for another day.

We would have to stay a few more days in hospital and with 'we' I mean both of us but as long as we are together everything is good. As Sherlock went so sleep he asks of me something very unexpected, because I hadn't thought he would know.

"Can you sing these songs for me again? The ones you sing as I was sleeping." I did without questioning how he knows, why he needed it or what he was thinking. Letting a grown man sing for another one. Sherlock fell asleep peacefully and without nightmares.


End file.
